Decisions and Decorations.

We’ve made some significant and exciting decisions this month.  As I mentioned in a few of my last posts, Boyfriend and I had been becoming progressively more stressed at the prospect of finding our own place and moving house.  This, I am cheerful to say, has been resolved.  We’re staying where we are!

Last week, after a particularly dismal house viewing, Boyfriend and I were driving home with heavy hearts.  It had certainly dawned on me that my standards were miles above my budget, and that we would never find somewhere which met my expectations.  All I could think of when I walked around the sad excuse for a 3 bedroom house was “Who the bloody hell designed this?” I also found out that I really dislike Estate Agents.  How much money do they make? Why their teeth so white?  Why so shiney shoes?  Why so spikey hair?

When we finally had the conversation about staying where we were, it was like a weight was lifted.  The only real downside to our flat is that it’s small. Boyfriend and I realized that everything else we didn’t like about it could be changed.  We’ve decided to spend the money we’d saved for the new house on sprucing the place up; new furniture, a lick of paint and a good day’s cleaning. Our housemate has been really kind and offered to move out, so we even have an extra room for storage (one thing we desperately lacked). I feel like a proper grown up – Which is apt as I turn 24 at the end of the month.

I love birthdays. Some of my favourite childhood memories are around the time of my birthday.  To me, your day of birth is the one day in a year where an individual truly deserves to be complete centre of attention, which is fair because everyone gets their day eventually. When I was in Primary Six, my Mum brought in my 25 of my favourite buns (cinnamon Danish) for the whole class.  Does anyone remember how strange it was seeing your parents in school when you didn’t expect them to be there?! It was probably the most spectacular day of my life. Everyone was thanking me for the buns (even though I had no idea) and wishing me happy birthday (including our normally extremely strict teacher, Mr. Woods.) I was so proud of my mum for being so damn cool by disrupting class with Danish.

My little sister will be staying with us around Halloween, which is a perfect excuse to decorate the shit out of the flat.  If I could buy real ghosts I would.  There’s going to be pumpkins and skeletons in every room.  The heat’s gonna be full blast, everywhere is gonna smell like cinnamon and only lamps are allowed to be turned on to protect spooky atmosphere. I even bought Barney a doggy pirates’ outfit –When I put his hat on, he tries to bite it and it looks like he’s saying “Arrghhhh” which is cool.  For me.  Not for him.

All of the above reminds me to be excited for Christmas.  I know, some people hate this word, especially around this time of year, but if there’s anything I like more than Halloween, ’tis the season. I adore shopping for gifts; the look of joyous surprise on faces makes me feel like I won Christmas.  Then there’s the Christmas market in Belfast city centre – mulled wine and cider, festive music, a huge decorated tree, then later heading home to a warm house to cuddle on the sofa and watch Home Alone. It’s the one time of year I don’t mind the cold.

For the first time in a long time, I feel truly optimistic about the future.  I’m not wishing my life away because I really do feel that everything is gonna be OK. Pass over the mulled wine and bring on the trips to IKEA because I am adult-ing like a pro this month.

Apps I Hate.

Google Maps.

I was going to leave this one till last because I abhor it the most, but I need to get it out of the way.  I mentioned in my last post that Boyfriend and I were house hunting.  There is no update on this, we are still looking. This is stressful, but not nearly as traumatic as using Google maps.

I’ve lived in Belfast for almost a year; I’m not wholly confident about knowing my way around but I could perhaps advise a lost tourist who speaks little English. I’ve never been the type of person to retain the knowledge of street names, so I prefer to use shops, bars, restaurants, libraries, or funny looking architecture to describe my location to others.  I realise this is not ideal for everyone, especially when they’re the ones who require the directions (“You want to get to the nearest Tescos?  Go down that second street and you’ll see a red shop, go left there till you get to the road with the pub on the corner then go right until you see the pointy blue thing and it’s just across the road next to the Chinese that does the nice chow mien.”)

So here’s how the app works (in case you didn’t know) – You type in an address and the lady in your phone takes you there.  It shows your route and tells you how long it will take either by car, walking, bike or bus.  Doesn’t it sound undemanding and valuable?  Well it’s not, because she doesn’t take you there.  The stupid e-fool takes you cross country, then back, and then she takes you there.  I recently had to use her getting to North Belfast, however, this turned out to be the most stressful journey of my life.  She started by telling me to get onto the main road; done. Five minutes after driving, take a Right; Done. Take two Lefts; Done. Only now doing it angrily, because I’m going the opposite direction to what she first told me to do. Ten minutes of driving, take a Right: Well this takes me back onto the main road you told me to get on to first… Take a Left; So still going in the same direction previously… Take a right; Back on the road I just got off, I really don’t trust you but I’ll keep listening because I don’t know where North Belfast is. Go across the bridge and take the third exit at the round-about; Back the way I came?  Bisch whaaa? That is literally back the way I came, and don’t tell me it wasn’t safe to turn because there were ample turning opportunities.  Forty minutes later and I arrive at the address she originally told me would take fifteen.

I appreciate the app can’t legally advise me to do anything hazardous, but what’s wrong with a U-Turn once in a while? I am the responsible one in the car, I am its master, do not worry about my safety, e-fool, just get me where I need to be quick quick.  Good thing I leave early for everything.

Safari

I don’t even know the real reason why I have an aversion to this app. I have always used Google Chrome – I find it easier to use and visually more satisfying.  There’s something about the Safari icon I really hate… And it’s so pointy… There are so many lines.  I hate that there’s a blank screen when you first open it. I hate looking down on all the pages like it’s an old-school filing cabinet. I hate that all the links in my emails take me there, so there’s a million pages to close down. Most of all I hate that the ‘back’ and ‘forward’ arrows are at the bottom – This goes against all previous computer training!

Turns out I know exactly why I don’t like this app.

Candy Crush

A lot of my Facebook friends will read this and think; “WHAT?  STUPID BITCH SENDS ME NOTIFICATIONS ALMOST EVERY DAY!”

Wanna know why?  Wanna know what years of tickets and lives has given me!?

It’s given me the curse of being on level 831.

I hate this app because ever since I downloaded it, I am addicted. It’s slow, garish and the music is tremendously irritating but I have a problem.  I’ve spent money on this app.  On principle, I will never make an in-app purchase but there was one time, on a bus, when I was exceptionally bored, I had had a five level streak and the winning felt so good… I paid 0.60p of my hard earned money in order to get to the next level.  I am ashamed, and have only ever shared that secret with other Candy Crush users, because they understand…

Topshop

I hate the Topshop app because of its arrogance. Click on and there’s a picture of a model looking at me like “Fuck you.”

I open it when I’m in desperate.  When I’ve looked at every other clothing app I own (love you, ASOS!), I turn to Topshop.  When I get there, I think; Is it the 70s now? Why is everything metallic or a turtle neck? Why is this white t-shirt £20?

Twitter

Do not get me wrong – I really enjoy Twitter – But I never ever use the app on my phone.  I will only ever scroll the newsfeed if I am on a computer.  I’m not sure why, but I think it’s a lot easier to navigate on a larger screen.

Photo Editing Apps

I recently did a clear out of my “Photography” folder on my phone, and guess how many photo editing apps there were? Nine. I deleted most of them, choosing to keep Instagram and face swap. Every time I go to the app store there’s a new editing app to download.  I love editing photos, but rarely use anything other than the iPhone camera itself or Instagram.  All the others are too fiddly. I had an app that could change your skin tone, hair colour, face shape, but what’s the point in all that?  I don’t want to be a different person; I just wanna look like I have a tan and no spots, thanksverymuch.

Minecraft

This is the final one, and to be perfectly honest, I’ve never played it in my life.  I downloaded it for my little sister back when I lived at home.  You think I had a problem with Candy Crush?  PFFFTT! There was once she faked sick and didn’t go to school because she knew I was off work and she could play it on my iPad (I’m talking about my youngest sister here obviously – not the 17 year old).  Every time I come home, after a hug I hear “Can I have your phone?” When I give it to her she’ll sit there for up to half a hour ‘building’ whatever it is, then she’ll run up to me (or whoever is there) and say  “Look what I made, isn’t it amazing?” and you have to say yes, but really, it looks shit.  It’s all brown and green blocks.  Why is this so popular?

I am, indisputably, addicted to the internet.  I think it is an amazing invention, and I honestly feel I am a more knowledgeable person for having access to it.  I positively take for granted how difficult it must be to create an app – I know I couldn’t do it.  When it comes down to it there’s only one thing that makes me really love an app – Simplicity. That’s of use and of design. If you app designers out there manage this, I’ll be a subscriber for life.

50 Facts About Me.

Despite having written around eleven posts, there still some basic things I would like to share.  Some are funny, some are sad.  Some are missing, but they might be for another time.

1. I was born with jet black hair.  My Mum said if it wasn’t so fine, she could have put it in pig-tails.
2. My first pet was a dog, called Texas.  We had to give him away because we were moving house.  He came back from two different families, because he  snapped at their children. The third time he went to an older man who was planning on breeding him.  My Dad promised we could go see the puppies if there ever was any, but we didn’t hear from the man again.
3. My second pet was a hamster given to me from my swimming instructor.  He was also my Dads friend, so it’s not as strange as it sounds.  I don’t remember its name, but we only had it for a week until it died.  My Mum had cleaned out it’s cage with bleach and I think it suffocated.  My Brother and I thought it was frozen, so when he woke me up to show me it wasn’t moving, I put it under my pillow in an attempt to heat it up and bring it back to life. I’m not sure how long we did this for (a hot water bottle was also included), but I wasn’t upset when Mum tied him in a plastic bag and put him in the outside bin.
4. I’ve kept a diary intermittently my whole life.  Since 2009 I’ve had one every year.  It’s not really ‘Dear Diary’ type thing though. I use it to write down notable events and work things, appointments… General stuff I wouldn’t want to forget.  I stick receipts in there too, because they help me remember what I did that day.  I do this because I used to work with people with mental health and memory problems, and to me, losing the mind or forgetting your past is one of the saddest things that can happen to a body.
5. My first job was in Easons.  I don’t think I was very good at it, because I was only there for a few months on a Christmas contract.  My favorite task was filling out the sweets.  I had a major crush on the bosses nephew.
6. I adore reading, but my favorite books are undoubtedly, unashamedly and eternally the Harry Potter series.  I recently finished re-reading them, but I’ve lost count how many times I’ve finished them. I will read them to my children one day and they will fall in love with magic like I did.  True works of art are timeless, and for me, Harry Potter is just that.
7. Due to my love of all things Potter, my third pet was a guinea-pig called Ron.  He was jet black, but had a single ginger stripe across the middle of his back.  He lived for about 14 years, which is strange because they’re only supposed to live half that.  My mum cried the day he died.
8. I’ve lived in six different houses in my life.  My favorite was the second.  I have the best memories in that house.
9. When I was 9 my Mum and Dad were hit by a drunk driver walking down to one of my primary school plays.  My little brother Harry, who was around 7 at the time, had just ran ahead to catch up with some friends.  My Mum’s leg was shattered, and my Dad damaged his back.  Mum was in hospital for a long time, but I remember she got out on Christmas Eve.  We think if Harry hadn’t have run ahead, we would have been cancelling Christmas altogether.  On a brighter note, my little sister who was in Nursery at the time, heard the news and hardly reacted.  The lady who informed us had said “Your mum and dad were hit by a car”, but my sister thought she said “Your mum and dad were hit by a chair.” – She didn’t see what the big deal was.
10. Every girl in my class in Primary Four got into the choir except me.  I used to sit with the boys and play Lego.  Until my Granny complained the system was unfair.  I appreciate what she did, but I wouldn’t have let me into a choir either.
11. I cried once because I didn’t know what zero minus zero was.  (It’s zero.)
12. The first makeup I ever wore was eyeliner, and I thought I looked phenomenal.  I was about 10, and my Mum made me take it off straight away.  I think she could see how much I liked it, didn’t want me to get hooked.  Alas, to this day I adore make-up, and most of all a smokey eye.
13. My Mum cut me a fringe in first year of secondary school.  If ever there’s a time to DRASTICALLY change your hair style, do not do it when you are in the beginnings of puberty.  Maybe it’s a right of passage.  On the first day of my new ‘do’ my form teacher said I looked like Cleopatra, never did I feel such regret.  Another thing too, TO THIS DAY, I am still trying to grow out that bloody fringe.  It’s been a side fringe for the last 10 years, and I don’t know how to get rid of it without looking like a member of Hanson.
14. I did English Literature, Geography, History and Sociology for A Level.  My A Level years were the best two years of my life so far.  I met the people that shaped the person I am now and experienced so much freedom.  Summer 2009 hold some of my happiest memories, when I started to be confident and find myself as a person.
15. I had braces.  I should have got them when I was 12 or 13, but my orthodontist died and I was put in the back of the queue, meaning I didn’t get them till I was 15.  I didn’t smile with my teeth in photos for about three years.
16. I’ve had two best friends called Katie.
17. My fourth and fifth pets were cats.  Meena was an all black kitten, I rescued her when I was around 8 from under the butchers car.  We had to keep her at home overnight because the cattery was closed when I took her home.  I fell in love with her immediately, even though the next day she climbed up the back of the boiler; when we tried to chase her out she hid in the engine of the car.  It must have been warm in there, Mum and Dad were afraid to drive, so the car was stationary for about a week before we had to flush her out with the watering can.  She settled into and became part of the family after a bit of pampering, but never liked to go outside.  We got another cat, Ally, which my Mum found (stole) in a garden beside my Granny’s house.  Meena and Ally were best friends.  We moved a few years after that, and one night Meena didn’t come home.  My older brother and I found her squished on the road not far from the house.  Sad and ironic how she hated to go outside, and the one time she decided to be a little adventurous was the last.  Ally sat on the windowsill for weeks looking out for her. It was sad. Ally still lives with my parents in Camlough, I still love her very much.  She must be nearly 18 now.  She’s senile and not allowed in the house anymore, because she kept coming in and pissing on the towels in the hot-press.
18. I’ve had around seven jobs.  My favorite was in a bar in Carlingford. I met a lot of cool people and drank a lot of cool drinks.  This was where I accidentally experienced my first ‘cigarette butt in beer’ cocktail.
19. If you asked me what my favorite food was, I’d say an apple.  If I’m hungover, it’s crisps.  I’d rather have five snacks than a meal.
20. I really hate coriander and celery.  I used to hate tomatoes, but I can just about stand them now.
21. I’ve had four boyfriends which I would regard as worth mentioning.  They weren’t serious, but I spent enough time with them that they impacted my life in certain ways, good and bad.
22. I’m sure the relationship I’m in now is the one.
23. Before I go to sleep at night, or if I’m really relaxed, I tap my foot against the other one, so that my leg moves slightly. It sort of rocks me off to sleep and indicates I’m truly content.  It’ll annoy the life out of you if you’re sharing a bed with me though.
24. My dreams are vivid, and I generally remember them easily.  I once told my little Sister about one of my dreams as a story before bed.  It ended as a dream does – with no conclusion – but she begged me to go to sleep and dream some more so she could find out what happened.  I never dream the same dream twice, so we never found out what happened to Harry Styles and the underwater people.
25. I was 11 when I had my first kiss.
26. I’m 5’10.
27. I’ve been to two funerals and three wakes in my life.  Both my Grandads are dead, I was 3 when my Mum’s Dad died.  I remember him lying there in one of the spare rooms during the wake, everyone was crying but I kept asking my mum “Why isn’t Granda getting up?” Way to rub it in, Molly, jeeze.
28. When my Mum announced she was pregnant with my brother Harry, I replied “Can’t we have a puppy instead?”
29. When I met my current Boyfriend, I told him I was a naturally clean and tidy person.  I don’t know why I said this, as this is not true.  I am as messy as they come.  I do go through little ‘bursts’ of wanting to have everything in the right place, but ultimately, sometimes the right place for everything is the floor of the bedroom.
30. Halloween is my favorite time of year.
31. I destroyed my first bike by crashing into a bush.  I was going downhill, the brakes were broken and I didn’t want to go onto the main road and get hit by a car.  I steered into a bush and sat their crying while my Brother went and fetched my Dad.
32. I learned to drive when I was 21, and passed my test on the third attempt.
33. My first (and current) car is a red 2008 Seat Ibiza.  I saved up and paid for it myself.
34. I am STILL obsessed with the videos Chandelier and Elastic Heart by Sia.  I think Maddie Zeigler is absolutely astounding, and if I start watching either video I cannot take my eyes off it until it’s finished.  She makes me want to be a professional dancer, despite not even bunny-hop-with-a-twist in P.E when I was in school.
35. I generally don’t like TV shows, but love and appreciate a great movie.  I’ve never seen a good book-to-movie adaption.  Perhaps surprisingly, I would say my favorite movie is 300.  It blew my mind the first time I watched it, so I watched it twice again that day.  Each time was better than the last.
36. My sixth and seventh pets were Irish wolfhounds named Meena (in memory of cat Meena) and Monkey.  We got Meena as a puppy, but Monkey was a gift from a rich client of my Dads’.  We live in the country beside a mountain, and one of the first times dad took Meena and Monkey out for a walk together, Monkey jumped over a fence and broke his front paws.  My Dad and Brother had to carry him back down the mountain.  If you don’t know what male Irish Wolfhounds look like… Well, it was like carrying a small pony down the side of a mountain.  Monkey’s paws healed, but he always walked funny.  He died last year.  Writing that made me sad, which is strange, because I never paid him much attention when we had him.  Meena is still alive, but she’s getting old and I think the end is nigh.
37. My favorite way of relaxing is on the sofa with a blanket.  Bonus points if it’s dark and cold outside.
38. I’d rather be too hot than too cold.
39. My feet are size 6.
40. My favorite restaurant is Wetherspoons.  Cheap and cheerful.  Not like me at all.
41. I do not and have never liked Primark.  I have bought things from there, only to regret it later.
42. I have an addiction to cooking programmes.  The Hairy Bikers are my favorite.  They’re probably the only celebrities I wouldn’t be intimidated to meet.
43. I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember, but I just can’t think of a story to write.
44. I bruise like a peach.  I wake up with new bruises on my legs almost every week with no idea how they got there.
45. My ninth and tenth pets were fish called Kep and Roger.  Boyfriend and I bought them last summer, but they only lived for three days until Roger ate Kep and somehow they both died.
46. There was a point in my life when My Chemical Romance was my favorite band.
47. When I was around 6, I stuck a pin in an apple hoping my brother would eat it.  My granny found out and hit me with a wooden spoon.
48. I used to have three elderly neighbors growing up; Billy, his wife Winnie, and her brother Tommy.  They all lived together next door. I don’t remember meeting them, but I do remember they were my best friends from around the age of 5 till 10.  They bought me my first bike, my Holy Communion dress, and kept a tin of sweets stocked up for when I came over.  They didn’t have their own kids, and I recently found out everyone else in the village though they were grumpy old people with a chip on their shoulder.  My mum said I brought out the very best in them, and they died happy; First Billy, then Tommy, and finally Winnie.
49. Barney is my eleventh pet.  A Parson Russel, you had best not confuse him with a Jack Russel, as he is far more handsome. The other day in the park I let him off his lead so he could run on a bit while I bent down to tie my shoe.  He came back covered in shit and we had to go home early.  His farts are the worst.  He is the best.
50. I am happy.

I Went on a Holiday.

Bonjour!

I went to France!

About three weeks ago.

I told myself I wasn’t going to blog during my time away; I had no internet anyway and…  Well I’m lying.  I didn’t blog because my priority was to eat bread and drink wine all day.  I surpassed that goal, and ate bread and drank wine all day and all night.  Seriously, instead of brushing my teeth one morning, I tore off a piece of baguette and ate it.  I made sure to chew it plenty.  Plaque be gone.

Boyfriend and I were away for two weeks altogether.  I finished work and that holiday buzz began, even though I had to wait three days before leaving the country.  Did it stop me packing at 9am, an hour after I clocked off?  No-sir-eeee!  Barney was staying at my parents house so I packed him a little bag too.

Last year when we went to Majorca, we decided to take just one carry-on and get a big bag checked in.  This year, we figured it would be smarter to take smaller suitcases, as we were staying in Boyfriend’s parents’ house, therefore didn’t need much stuff.  Fully aware of the amount of unworn items in last year’s suitcase, this year I packed sensibly; four pairs of shorts, about ten t-shirts, one jumpsuit, three pairs of shoes (Nike runners and two pairs of sandals), two long dresses and four bikinis.  I ended up wearing all the shorts, about four tops, three bikini (tops), neither the dresses nor the jumpsuit and actually having to purchase a new pair of sandals, because the ones I took with me didn’t fit when I walked (if I stood still they were smokin’) and the others broke on the first day, so I had to put them in the skip at the bottom of the road when we went to the bottle bank.

Boyfriend had decided to rent a car, which was a super cool silver Ford Festia.  Did I drive the cool car?  Not even once.  They drive on the other side of the road in France, and I can barely tell left from right in my own country, never mind a foreigners’, so unfortunately, when we pulled out of the airport in our cool car, I started screaming; “You’re supposed to be on the right, the RIGHT!” I had had a few glasses of vino at the airport, but Boyfriend must have forgotten this as he jerked the wheel from side to side as he temporarily doubted himself.  He was a tad miffed, as we were actually already on the right side of the road.  My panic had infected his judgement for a millisecond, so I decided to keep quiet for the rest of the drive.

There are certain things that reassure you that you’re on holiday.  The smell when you walk out of the airport, it smells like heat, it hugs your skin and bones; you can’t help but take in a gulp of it with the cheesiest of grins on your face.  Another reassurance is the slight difference in landscape – French countryside is beautiful; flat and many shades of beige, with the horizon seeming an impossible distance away.  What I enjoyed most on our various jaunts in the car, was seeing the sunflower fields, it was like looking at thousands of children all looking up toward the sun.  I always thought it was funny that there was one really tall one poking up in the middle, as if it was on its tip-toes and straining its neck.  There was also something sorrowful about the way they seemed to look down when the sun went away, as if hanging their heads in hopelessness.

I fell asleep for a little while, even though it only took about an hour to reach the house.  My first impression was “That’s a skinny house” – but it was deceptive because it was tall. Inside, the space was perfectly managed; I declared I wanted to live there right away.  Then I had the challenge of walking up the stairs.  They were the wooden ones that are connected to the banister and stuck into the wall, the ones that terrified me as a child because they didn’t have a back; I always thought someone would grab my feet as I made my incline to the second floor.  No one grabbed my feet though, but I still clung to the railing every morning when I came down for breakfast.  We slept in bunk beds, which was great because it was roasting, so I didn’t have the immersion heater that is Boyfriend beside me, and Boyfriend didn’t have the Magic Fuzzy Wiggly Twisty Worm Toy Snake beside him (I move a lot in my sleep).

We did touristy things, visited a castle (narrow spiral stairs – also notably scary) , went to ZooParc Beauval (one of only 17 Zoos in the world that has Pandas – As I politely informed anyone who looked at me) We went swimming, for about 40 minutes until I got hungry and wanted to leave.  We went to a nightclub, although I don’t remember much of that, apart from chants of “MONTALONG, MONTALONG!”  We went to a theme park called Futuroscope and stood in some queues. We had a couple of BBQs, the first being a disposable from Intermarché, Boyfriend ate one cooked sausage and I had half a fillet of salmon before the coals sort of burned out and we had to use the oven.  The second BBQ was a more professional matter, we went to a friend’s house and they supplied us with food and drink, I was in my element when FIVE trays of snacks were brought out; cheese, crisps, nuts, tomatoes (with cheese), bread, more cheese.  Our hosts declared they didn’t go to much trouble, although I think they appreciated the glee in my eyes when the trays of nibbles and salads were coming out.

It is inevitable to argue with whoever you’re with whilst on holiday, but I think Boyfriend and I did pretty well.  If we did argue, it’s because we couldn’t decide on somewhere to eat, or what we wanted to do that day, or I was doing that annoying thing I do where I expect Boyfriend to be able to read my mind.  I should have just told him I what I wanted to do.  Then he could disagree and we could get on with whatever he wanted to do (ooooh, burn!)

On our last day, we spent most of the morning tidying up the house.  We drove to the city closest to our airport as we had a little time to kill.  Despite having been in France for the past 13 days, we forgot that all shops close from around 12am till 2pm for Lunch.  This would, of course, be the day that I had planned to get souvenirs for my family.  I ended up buying a packet of crisps for the plane instead.

All in all, we had a gay old time.  I didn’t get a tan, I didn’t die of alcohol poisoning, I didn’t eat frogs legs, I didn’t try pastries or chocolate, because of this, I will be returning to France when the next opportunity presents itself.

Sun, Bums and Thanks.

Isn’t it amazing how brilliant the sun makes you feel?  I am undeniably a sun worshiper, nothing makes me more irritated than being cold for a prolonged period of time.

Ireland definitely does not boast the best weather, but Belfast this week has been glorious!  When it’s good, it is so good.  G and I went to Botanic Park last week with Barney and lay in the sun drinking beer.  Everything was beatific.  Even when Barney knocked over a toddler and ate a sausage roll from a strangers’ picnic.

There is something about having real heat from the sun that makes you feel there’s something to anticipate, like a friend you haven’t seen in a long time is home, or that tingly feeling you have when you just know you’re going to have a good night out

I feel more positive than I have done for a long time.  After my last post, I wiled away an irrational amount of time contemplating my own happiness, despite it being one of my most enjoyable posts to write so far.  Now that I’ve shaken that off and seen the light, I have so many things to look forward to!  The countdown to our holidays in France has begun, notwithstanding the eternal struggle convincing myself not to go shopping for ‘holiday clothes’ I don’t need, I’m pretty content with sitting back enjoying the time flow by between then and now.

Something I have been struggling with lately is the insistent pressure I’m putting on myself to “eat clean”.  Where did this term come from?  “Fit-not-thin” is another thing I’m seeing flung around internet blogs and those dedicated to providing ‘fitspiration’.  Back in my day it was ‘thinspiration’.  Why is there a constant drive at young women to be something else, something more?  A recent survey showed that 16-25 year old’s spend an average of 16 minutes and 7 attempts to take the illusive ‘perfect selfie’…. That’s kinda sad.  Not that I don’t take the aforementioned selfie, I just don’t spend 20 minutes a day taking one that only I truly care about and no one else will see.

On a different note, anal glands.  No…  Not mine.  Barney has been having issues with his.  This is totally common (apparently) in dogs, but also totally gross.  It cost £53.18 for some worming tablets and a certain procedure I do not want to get into.  Let’s just say, Barney has a sensitive bum does not like the vet. Tips for dog owners – If your dog is chasing his tail, OK, cute and funny at the start, but it’s probably because they can’t get a satisfying scratch at their ass.

I also wanted to encourage a little more interaction from the people who read this blog  – I honestly found it really hard to write this week.  I’m planning a whole lot of nothing for the next few days (apart from “clean eating” BBQ food and UV rays), but would love if I got some ideas or topics to engage in.

Last week I was chuffed to have over 200 views.  I know this is a drop in the ocean in terms of internet popularity, but I was utterly thrilled.  I really wanted to thank those who have taken the time to click on the WordPress link I share on Twitter or Facebook, and actually making it to the end of my posts.

The Problem with Unidentified Sadness.

Why is it that there’s times in life when you can’t be happy?  I’m not talking about those who suffer from a mental health issues like manic depression or bipolar disorder.  I’m talking about the inexplicable times where you sit back and admit to yourself that you’re just sad.

I have read and laughed at a number of articles online that have highlighted the differences between men and women.  One of my personal favourites is the picture of a man and woman in bed, obviously a couple, lying with their backs to each other.  They’re both awake and look deep in thought.  The woman is thinking something along the lines of; 

“Why doesn’t he love me anymore?  Why hasn’t he spoken to me in days?  Did I do something?  Should I change for him? Is it because I put on 2lbs?”

At the same time he’s staring into the distance thinking, “Why wouldn’t the car start last Thursday?”

I am not saying that men are emotionally vacant, which this article implied.  I am questioning why I am emotionally plagued.  This might be an entry I do not want my boyfriend to read after what I’m about to admit, but sometimes, I am downright insane.  

My boyfriend is my best friend, and we get along pretty much all of the time. I do feel sorry for him however, when I get the dreaded ‘unidentified sad’. There’s been a time where he’s come home from work and went into the kitchen instead of coming in and saying hello to me first.  This has upset me.  

He’s good at telling if I’m distressed because he asks, “Why you wee sourpuss face?” Which makes me laugh, then become more annoyed because he’s not taking my feelings seriously.  I become increasingly pugnacious with every word he says.  I’m a wee sourpuss face because I feel like being a wee sourpuss face.  Why won’t he leave me alone?  But he better not DARE leave me alone, not without fixing my non-existent problem of ‘unidentified sad’. He better sit there under my baleful stare.  But he better not look me in the eye. Or use a certain tone of voice.  Or sit less than six inches away from me. Or hug me for more than 10 seconds. Or stand up.  Or sit down.  Or breathe.

Let’s face it, when I have ‘unidentified sad’, that poor man is fucked.

When I was younger and my parents used to fight, they would bitch behind each other’s back to my siblings and me.  My mum would complain my dad never listened or took hints, and my dad would complain my mum should see a brain doctor.  I told myself when I was in a serious relationship I would just TELL my partner what was wrong rather than have them guess.  I was good at this at the start, but there came to be a point in our relationship where I just felt he should know.  He should know things, like I know that he’s looking for his keys.  He should know I’m mad that he didn’t text me first, like I know he’s mad because he’s hungry.  He should know what to get me in the shop even when I don’t know what I want.

My literary effusions are in jest, but in the past I have been in a very dark place.  I worry when ‘unidentified sad’ lingers with me throughout the day like a gloomy dark cloud.  I have found the best way to extinguish this feeling is by embracing it.  I let it get to its worst, and then I let it go.  Sometimes I need to be sad.  It’s wrong for me to labour myself with the delusion that everything is consistently rosy, because periodically (and realistically), it isn’t.

There are things that keep ‘unidentified sad’ away – spending quality time with my boyfriend (phones away and wine poured), my dog when he’s being a good boy, talking to my dad on the phone (mum too when she’s in a good mood), seeing my brother and sisters, food, knitting, exercise, painting my nails or doing my make-up, writing, breakfast in bed (despite crumbs), reading, watching cooking programs, or just sitting thinking.  

What helps me most is realizing that I am not alone.  I had a comment about my last post from a girl I haven’t spoken to in years, who told me she agreed with everything I had written and really enjoyed my blog so far.  I’m always solicitous to cultivate opinions so I was touched, her small act of appreciation brought a golf-ball shaped lump of emotion into my throat.  Just to know someone can identify with me as a person, makes fighting my own ‘unidentified sad’ seem perfectly perfunctory. 

Hello!

And I’ve done it.  It was easier than I thought.  A quick “how do I create a blog” google and here I am.  For me, writing has always been held in the highest of high esteem.  My favorite people are writers.  I am constantly in awe as to what can come out of people’s minds.  Without writers, I wouldn’t have Harry Potter, I would have never known Kvothe, and my sister would not have the coolest name in the world.

Why was I afraid to start writing?  Probably the same reason I have when I consider starting any new venture; I am afraid of what people think.  Want to start running – but what if I look stupid? Want to start a yoga class – but what if I get my leg stuck around my head? Want to dye my hair silver – but isn’t that a bit too ‘out there’?  I realise that this is a truly horrible reason not to try new things, but after coming to the mind blowing conclusion that self-consciousness is a human condition and not at all abnormal- I began to relax and feel a little better about sharing a small piece of my muggle self online.

Straight in at the deep end.  Some facts about myself that you will all obviously really want and need to know;

• I’m a 23 year old living and working in Belfast.
• I’ve lived away from home for 6 months.
• I have a lovely boyfriend called Gareth.
• We own a beautiful, hilarious dog called Barney.
• I really like eating.
• I love doing yoga.
• I had a brief knitting phase, I knitted half a scarf for Barney, but he ate it (and my knitting needles).
• I worry a lot about money.
• I worry a lot about diet and exercise.
• I have a really wonderful family at home in Camlough consisting of a mummy, a daddy, two brothers (though I only get along with my younger brother) and two sisters.

I found it hard to keep the negative aspects of myself off that list.  I think it’s natural for me to highlight the bad in myself and hope that people can relate.  It’s a long running joke in Ireland that females can’t take a compliment, but I feel this is quite an accurate depiction of my own personality.  My boyfriend is constantly telling me I’m beautiful, but I still get upset during those low points where I cannot see it myself.  I am working towards changing my outlook on life and reaping the benefits of being one of these so-called ‘positive thinkers’.

I have written online before but never whole-heartedly (remember livejournal? Cringe.) Even if I read back on this in a years time and shrivel up with embarrassment, all I have to do is tell myself I am still young and I am still learning.

This blog will cover the little things I feel like… Well… Blogging.  It will be my life in the hard times and the easy peasey breezy awesome times.  I’ll try to update as much as possible – I spend a lot of my time online.  I’ll share the bits of the internet I like, and probably rant about the bits I do not. I will of course, in due time, elaborate on some of the points I have made here in my first post, so stay tuned it you would like to know more. If you read this and find there is something about me that you would like to know – Get in touch please.

P.S In case you were wondering, my sister’s name is Scout.